


The last summoner

by HKGlenstid



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Character Death, Darius is an Uncle, Darius secretly has a heart, F/M, League has been destroyed, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Sad, future setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-12-11 01:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HKGlenstid/pseuds/HKGlenstid
Summary: The League's summoners were all killed and the Institute of War was destroyed, all done by one being. It's been fourteen years, and Marcus, an orphan child who's only family is his uncle, has been sheltered from the cruel reality of Runeterra all his life. When fate decides to play a different tune, Marcus finds himself thrown into a quest to find his parents and to save Runeterra.





	1. Prologue

Prologue: The forgotten summoner  
Before the times of magic, upon the birth of Runterra there was a war unlike any other. Between the Void and the first humans. It was a vicious battle, lasting many millennia before finally a single mortal ended the war single handedly. He was different than other mortals, able to perform magical feats only thought to be god like. But it was his ability to summon any creature to do his bidding that won him the war. The first ever summoner. Within a day he had killed every Void creature on Runeterra and his famed valor was what gave birth to the name Valoran. But such triumphs do not last forever. After the war ended and the era of peace begun, the people slowly begun to fear his power. Such magic could bring ruin to the world. So the people tricked the first summoner, locking him in a prison far below the depths of the surface of Runeterra, never to see the light of day again…

“An interesting choice High Councilor?” a deep voice boomed.  
High Councilor Reginald Ashram had been reading a random book that caught his interest in the archives. Upon being addressed he slammed the book shut in surprise, turning around to the being that had addressed him.  
“Ah Nasus, I see you are still awake,” he stated, smiling awkwardly. “Gave me quite the scare.”  
“I do not sleep High Councilor,” the ascendant replied. “And my apologies for startling you.”  
The old summoner chuckled, a hint of youth lighting up his eyes. His once blonde hair was paling, with hints of grey. A short beard was situated on his face, which made him look younger than he truly was. Reginald wore the traditional summoner purple robe, but his hood was off his head.  
“Ah yes, don’t worry about it,” Reginald stated, bowing respectively. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to find something to read. I was hoping to find something on the history of Valoran when I stumbled upon this.”  
He showed the book in his hand. It was a dirty brown diary, obviously old by the torn leathered straps and pages that stuck out from the diary.  
“I don’t recall ever seeing it before, so I was curious,” Reginald continued. “It was the first time I ever read anything about the beginning of the world. Do you happen to know anything about this diary?”  
Gently, the old summoner passed the diary to the towering ascendant. Nasus peered at the covers of the page, before opening the front page.  
“I have read every record in the Archive, yet this is the first time I have seen this,” Nasus answered, an obvious tone of confusion was evident in his voice. “I am afraid, that I cannot help you here High Councilor. This diary is beyond my knowledge.”  
The large dog like being returned the diary to Reginald. The High Councilor was lost in thought as he held the book in his hands.  
“Nasus may I borrow this diary for a night?” Reginald asked. “Perhaps after a good read I can make some sense of it.”  
“You may,” Nasus replied. “I pray that you find the answers you are seeking.”  
The High Councilor bid the ascendant farewell, before making his way out of the Institutes Archives. He was just about to leave when he stopped just before the door.  
“Nasus, can you not tell anyone about the details of this diary?” he asked, a serious expression on his face.  
“Could I be entitled to know why?”  
“It’s just a gut feeling. But you never know.”  
“…I promise.”  
“Thank you.”  
Reginald exited the archives and didn’t waste anytime in returning to his chambers, where he locked his door before walking to his desk. Switching on his lamp he opened the diary to where he had stopped reading.

The power of the first summoner was beyond imagination. The creatures he summoned were of gods and demons. Even death itself fell under his power. But it’s been many millennia and people have forgotten the first summoner. I too am a summoner myself. My family have watched and guarded this secret for many generations, and even though it’s been many generations, I grow wary. He had been tricked by the citizens of Runeterra, possibly by people he had trusted. Surely this would enrage anyone. An angry being that could supposedly control death. What if he still lives? 

Reginald stopped reading. What if he still lives? Those words sent a chill down his spine. He turned the page to continue reading about the first summoner, but the next page had been about a creature known as wyvern. Reginald had begun to desperately flip page after page, searching for more information of the supposed first summoner. It wasn’t until he reached the end of the diary did he realize there was nothing else about this apparent being.  
He slammed the book shut in frustration, resting his head in his hands as he begun to think. There was no way this was true right? Surely within ancient times there had been no way to document anything…that’s why there had never been anything about the beginning of Runterra…so why should be believe this tale? This was surely a figment of someone’s imagination was it not? Beside, if this truly happened all those years ago, surely this first summoner wouldn’t be alive now.  
Reginald lifted his head and looked at his shaking hands.  
‘Am I scared?’ he thought to himself.  
Standing from his seat, he walked to his bed, deciding to sleep on it for the time being. Perhaps tomorrow might pose a become outcome.  
Though that was the last time High Councilor Reginald Ashram was ever seen. By the time his chambers were searched, the diary he had been reading was nowhere to be seen.


	2. Chapter one

Chapter one  
These barbarians were idiots. My uncle knows it. I know it, and I’m only fourteen for crying out loud.   
It had been a normal day in the Freljord for my uncle and I. We woke early, went hunting for breakfast. Till lunch he would train me to fight, though I’m not too sure why. I can see it in his eyes that he despises me, his cold expression always angry as if he is disgusted by my existence.   
So after our one sided training regime, we would travel to town for supplies. It was a small town, on the border of Queen Ashe’s territory and Serpentine River, and frequently was robbed by the local barbarians. The ones that King Tryndamere didn’t control sadly. That probably explains their lack of intelligence. Right now they were at the stage of taking any weapons to stop any possible resistance against them. After fifteen minutes of doing nothing!  
“Hey uncle Darius, I’m getting impatient.”  
“So am I kid, so am I.”  
Uncle Darius was a big man, definitely strong in his youth, though he lost his right forearm years ago, and I’m assuming that was his dominant hand in combat. But even then he was a force to reckon with. His obvious once black hair was turning grey, even with some strands of white. He had on a simple red leather vest over black shirt and similar colored pants. Right now he was wearing a brown cloak, same one as me but much larger, though I feel like armor would have fit his appearance better.   
Though I really wouldn’t be surprised if uncle Darius was a soldier, his shouts really hurt my ears. He never really tells me about his past, probably because he doesn’t even like me.   
I sighed heavily, swiping some snow away from my brown hair. I wonder if uncle Darius was from my father’s side. Hopefully not, I wouldn’t like to have a father that would have that expression all the time...or my mother for that matter.   
I shuddered.   
“What is it?” uncle Darius asked. “You need to relieve yourself?”  
“What? Hell no!” I hissed back.  
“Whoever’s talking, shut up will yah!” one of the barbarians shouted, my eardrums ringing slightly.   
Everyone seemed to wince as well from the shout, though uncle Darius seemed fine. Probably cause he heard his own shouting everyday.  
“It was this kid,” he called out almost immediately, pointing down at me. “He needs to take a piss, so hurry up!”  
“Shut your mouth old man, we’ll finish once we have looted everything! The kid can take his piss later!”  
“At this rate I’ll die of old age you piece of shit!” uncle Darius roared back.  
The barbarian talking, which I assume is the leader, stormed towards uncle Darius, grabbing him by his vest collar.   
“I can kill yah right now to save yah the wait.” He hissed, his putrid breath entering my nose. Seriously, does he eat raw fish or something?  
“Let go of my vest sonny, that’s my favourite vest you’re grabbing,” uncle Darius stated threateningly.   
The tension was so thick I could probably cut it with a knife. I just prayed that he wouldn’t draw my uncle into a fight.  
“Watcha gonna do ‘bout it?”  
And, my only hope is out the window. I watched my uncle smile, a hint of insanity in his eyes. I sighed heavily.  
Here we go again. Uncle Darius must be a magnet for fights or something. A despite having lost his right hand, he was still a force to recon with.   
The barbarian probably didn’t know what hit him, as the fist collided with his face, a solid crack of a jaw breaking echoed through the town. Silence thundered as everyone stared at this one armed old man, rising to his feet, his left fist bloodied from the punch.   
“Kid, get up.”  
Seeing no other option I quickly stood up, staring at the group of barbarians still processing that their friend was unconscious on the ground with a broken jaw.   
So the good news is that we have a tactical advantage since they’re surprised. Bad news is that they have our weapons.   
They must have finally realized that since the barbarians gave a cry of battle before charging at the two of us, brandishing their weapons. A dozen armed barbarians weren’t something that most people would come across everyday, even in the Freljord. Normal people would be scared, like I am. My uncle on the other hand…  
“These weaklings dare to attack me?”  
Gave a tremendous roar before he charged at the barbarians, and seeing no other alternative right now, I strolled meekly behind him, still wondering how it became like this.   
I watched as my uncle grabbed the closest barbarian, before bringing his head to the poor guy’s head, a solid crack filling the air. Then uncle Darius grabbed the man’s weapon, an axe that seemed to small for the massive figure of my uncle. But he didn’t seem to care. He swung that thing with such force that we took out two more barbarians with a single swing, and proceeded to be a whirlwind of death, lashing out at all the poor barbarians that didn’t know who they were fighting against. It was a very one-sided battle in my uncle’s favour as none of the barbarians seemed capable of stopping him.  
Then I felt a sword rest on my neck.   
“Don’t move or I’ll kill your kid!”  
The last barbarian was holding the sword at my neck, pressing it in slightly. Uncle Darius turned around, and looked at me and growled.  
“And?” he asked.  
It was easy to say that the person holding the sword to my neck was shocked. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly like a gaping fish.   
“Don’t you care about your kid?” the barbarian asked.  
“One, he is not my kid,” uncle Darius answered. “Two, if he is stupid enough to get into a situation as a hostage, that is not my problem. And three, HOW LONG DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DISTRACT HIM FOR?”  
I mumbled an apology to my uncle, before grabbing the sword’s handle, twisting it away from me. Gently I forced the handle out of the barbarian’s hand, spun, and lashed out with a kick to his head, knocking him to the ground. In one swift motion I swung my blade, slicing his neck. Unable to breath the barbarian grasped at his neck, collapsing onto the ground, tears in his eyes, as he knew his death was unavoidable.   
“We should go before the townsfolk make too much of a fuss,” my uncle stated. “Get your weapon.”  
Nodding, I walked to where the barbarians had our weapons, instantly finding the short sword that uncle Darius had given me. Pulling the weapon out of its leather scabbard I checked to make sure that the barbarians didn’t damage the weapon. The slightly blue tinted blade seemed fine, and I couldn’t help a sigh of relief. Sheathing the short sword, I strapped it to beside my hip, securing the scabbard. Out of the corner of my eye I watch my uncle strap his large battleaxe onto his back, before he started to walk to the entrance of the village. Turning around I saw the villagers observe the dead bodies, and for those that had hid, they were coming out from their hiding places.   
Slipping on my hood, I ran towards my uncle, slowing to a normal walk when I reached him.   
I smiled at my uncle, to which he returned with a cold glare, walking in front of me so I couldn’t see his face. I sighed. He still didn’t like me after all. Maybe one day when I am strong enough, he’ll come to accept me as his nephew.


	3. Chapter two

Chapter two  
Rakelstake was the capital city of the Freljord, home to the King Tryndamere and Queen Ashe. It was a safe haven for citizens of the Freljord, and a thriving city. My uncle and I lived here, though I’m not too sure why. My uncle is a quiet and reserved man, so we could have easily purchased a cabin in the woods. After a few days travel from the village that we rid of bandits, my uncle and I finally arrived home.   
As I walked towards open city gates, the towering statue of Avarosa seemed to welcome me home. I pulled my hood over my head further, as I made my way towards the guards at the gate first, showing my citizenship pass. Reading it once, the guard grunted.  
“You’re fourteen this year kid,” he stated, handing it back. “Hope you’re prepared for the enlisting next season.”  
I raised an eyebrow curiously.   
“Enlisting sir?”  
“Yes,” he answered. “For the army.”  
“Aren’t we in times of peace? Why would there be any need for enlistment, especially at the age of fourteen?”  
The soldier opened his mouth, but he stopped what he was about to say.   
I was told that we were in times of peace. But everywhere I go I swear I see things that tell me differently. Bandit attacks becoming more frequent. No guards in small villages. Now enlisting children at the age of fourteen.   
I stared into the guard’s eyes, trying to read what he was thinking. I saw his eyes waver slightly, as if he was hiding something from me.  
“It’s a tradition of the Freljord,” he finally answered.   
I tried to argue back that it definitely wasn’t, as this was the first time I heard about it, but I felt my uncle’s hand placed on my shoulder  
“Leave it,” Darius stated coldly. “We’ll be waiting for the enlistment. Carry on with your duty.”  
The guard was shocked at my uncle’s interruption. It took a second to regain his composure, as he handed my citizenship pass back. Pulling my hood further over my face, I nodded, before entering the capital city.   
Ah, the feel of the fresh cold evening air, and the smell of cooked food would have brought anyone drooling. It was good to be back home.   
“Kid.”  
I turned around and saw my uncle walking away, to which I quickly followed after him. It wasn’t crowded, but the main streets had people in them. They would turn away from the sight of my uncle. Though I guess if a hulking man with a hood covering his face and a giant axe strapped to his back were walking towards you, you would move as well.   
Rakelstate was a simple structure city. In the center of the city was obviously the castle, where the King and Queen lived. Right next to it was a tower, easily dwarfing the castle in terms of height. I don’t know what this was, but I heard rumors of a cry of a bird at the top of the tower. It probably belonged to some mage that the King and Queen trusted.   
My uncle and I lived in the common folk area, nearer to the western gates. Here the housing was simplistic, with sturdy wooden structures and the like. Continuing past the residential areas, and closer to the northern gate was where the market was, and our place of destination.   
No matter how many times I have come here, the mercenary guild still made me nervous. The last time I came here was about a year ago. Inside there were many warriors, assassins, and even the occasional sword masters from other regions. Today thankfully wasn’t that crowded, with the only people being a couple of drunken mercenaries wasting themselves in the back corner of the guild.   
The room reeked of alcohol, but I chose to ignore it as my uncle took a seat at the bar, which I followed, sitting next to him.   
“Alex!” Darius called out, his voice booming.   
“Already back Darius?” a cheerful voice replied, coming from in the room behind the bar.   
A middle-aged woman walked out from the room behind, a glass mug in her hands, a washcloth in the other. She wore a grey tattered apron over a black vest and green skirt. She was slim, lightly muscled from years of fighting. Her auburn hair was tied into a bun, keeping the hair from her face. This was Alex, or Alexandria to be exact, the current guild master and bartender. Though she doesn’t look it, I heard that she is actually a very powerful fighter. The last unfortunate person to cross her is currently buried beneath the ground after a brawl that ended with a single punch.   
“It’s been a while hasn’t it?” Alex continued. “Thought you would be gone a month, like most members would. Here you are only a couple of days back.”  
“You give me too much credit,” my uncle answered, tapping the table. “The normal…and get the kid water or something.”  
Alex cocked a smirk, putting down the glass she had been cleaning, before preparing the orders.  
“The bandits give you too much trouble?” she asked again.  
Darius scoffed.  
“This kid would have been enough for them,” Darius answered. “Barely any effort.”  
Alan slid a cup of water towards me, which I picked up gratefully, drinking half of it in one go.   
“Haven’t seen you in a year Marcus,” Alex continued. “How’s your uncle been treating you?”  
“Like shit,” I answered.   
She responded with a laugh, while my uncle grunted in response, shrugging his shoulders.   
“Oh that reminds me, Darius,” Alex said with all seriousness. “One of them royal messengers came this morning to deliver a letter to you.”  
Reaching below the counter, Alex grabbed a white envelope, placing it on the table.  
A royal messenger? But they only take orders from either Queen Ashe of King Tryndamere…  
“Do you know why?” Darius asked.   
“No idea,” Alex answered. “You better hope you didn’t cross them or something. I hate to see another good man executed.”  
“Don’t worry. Tryn and Ashe aren’t stupid enough to officially execute me.”  
Hearing my uncle mention the King and Queen’s name so casually came as a surprise. I’m even more surprise at the fact that he hasn’t been executed for showing no respect to the monarchs.   
“Saying our leaders names so casually and you still have your head…” Alex muttered, shaking her head. “You must have been one hell of a person when you were younger.”  
My uncle fell silent. He stared at arm where his hand should be. I could see the slight expression of pain on his face. Guilt? Sorrow? I couldn’t tell. This was my uncle that we were talking about.  
“Maybe I once was Alex,” Darius finally stated. “Now I’m just a mercenary.”  
Standing up, he grabbed the letter, stuffing it in his coat pocket.  
“Kid, stay in the city for a bit, I’ll see what our rulers want with me,” my uncle said. “Don’t cause too much trouble.”  
And with that, I watched as my uncle left the guild.   
“You can never get anything from that man,” Alex stated. “I wonder how he even brought you up without killing you Marcus. That will forever remain a mystery.”  
Alex laughed at the joke, while I shrugged finishing my cup of water. I wonder who my uncle would have been when he was younger. I assume he had connections with King Tryndamere and Queen Ashe. He even nicknamed the king. So many things don’t make sense.  
“You’re confused,” Alex stated, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m not surprise. I am too…though honestly, Marcus…do you think Darius is your uncle?”  
I nodded.   
“I don’t know,” I answered. “He’s treats me coldly and pushes me to hard. But there are some good parts about him. He gave me this sword on my birthday and taught me to fight. I know he doesn’t tell me about himself or about my past for that matter. I think it hurts him when he remembers, that’s why he is always cold to me. But I don’t mind waiting for when he does tell me. Regardless of whether we have the same blood running through our veins or not, he’s still my uncle.”  
Alex stayed silent. A warm smile was on her face, before she ruffled my hair.   
“You’re a good kid Marcus,” she stated. “Oh, that reminds me, I need to get some firewood so I can cook for the next couple of days. Mind getting me some Marcus before nightfall?”  
I shrugged.   
“I have nothing else to do.”  
“Great. Follow me.”  
Just as she said that, she flipped the latch around the counter and lifted the hinge enough for her to get out. I slipped off the seat and followed her to one of the back rooms, where she grabbed something from inside. When she exited the room, she was holding a bag and an axe.  
“Normally I hire someone to do it, but he broke his hand yesterday,” Alex said. “So just fill the bag with firewood and come back immediately. Don’t get side tracked. I swear to god if something happens to you, your uncle won’t let me live.”  
I couldn’t tell if that was a joke or not. It was the evening, so I had to quickly get firewood. Grabbing the bag and axe, I slung the bag onto my back, and held the axe over my shoulder. They were slightly big for me, but I don’t think it would hinder me too much.  
“I’ll be back before you know it,” I told Alex, before leaving the guild.  
I made my way through the streets towards the Western gate. I looked at the sky, seeing the sun setting pretty quickly. At this rate I probably have another hour or two to collect firewood. Just as I neared the gates, I saw a small crowd. There were some gasps and someone crying. What was going on?   
I knew I had to get firewood quickly…but the curiosity was killing me. I made my way through the small crowd, seeing a woman on the ground, with a guard by her side. She was bleeding through her simple clothing, and he long black hair was covering her face.  
“M-My child…they took my child,” she sobbed. “Someone p-please…they have my child.”  
I wish I could have known what was going to happen to me in the future. I would have done things so differently. Little did I know, that the gears of fate, are already turning for me.


	4. Chapter three

## Chapter three

How did it come to this? I braced against the harsh snow, grabbing desperately at my thick cloak, but it seemed useless against the chilling winds. I let out a slow breath, and continued to trek up the mountain trail towards the northern Freljord.

I have never been this far up the mountains before, my uncle says that there is nothing up here but a couple of villages. And that woman I saw, the crying one at Rakelstake was apparently from one of them.

Looking back down the mountain side, I could barely see the towering city, with the cold fog surrounding it like a shield. Should I have waited for uncle Darius?

I looked back towards my destination, and hardened my resolve once more. There was no need to bother my uncle, it was probably just stupid bandits again, and if they were anything like what I experienced, it should be a cakewalk.

I soon arrived at what appeared to be a village. It was quiet, which was a little eerie, but then again I wouldn’t complain about it since it was snowing pretty hard right now. I should probably take shelter in one of the houses and let the snow die down a little.

Dragging my feet through the snow I past the open wooden gates, with the watchtower seemingly empty. I ignored it, and made my way towards the garrison shack below the watchtower, knocking gently on the wooden door. No response. Not even a stir. I knocked again. Once again, no response.

“Hey! The snow is getting heavier, I need shelter!”

I pounded against the wooden door harder, as a click was heard and the door creaked open.

It was dark inside, but I didn’t hesitate to go in, as I slammed the door shut behind me. It was a small shack, with a single table, kitchen and a fireplace. Most definitely a waiting area for the guard rotations.

But the shack didn’t have anyone in it. Where were the guards for the watchtower? I took off my coat, and laid it down on the table. On the table was an oil lamp, as I picked it up and turned the knob, a small flame illuminated the dim room. There were papers now visible on the table. I placed the lamp down next to the papers, before taking a seat and observing them. A map, some scribbles. The scribbles were in another language that I couldn’t read…maybe Ionian?

As for the map…it was just the map of Valoran. Red crosses seemed to mark out some places, a large one over Noxus.

My ears then picked up something. Maybe it was my years training with my uncle, or it was just plain luck, as I dove under the table as the door burst open.

A heavy footstep sounded, followed by a loud snort. The large figure walked into the shack, their footsteps thundering with each step. I turned my head slightly taking a look at the person’s feet, seeing that it was most definitely not human. It was massive, blue, and with only four toes. I have never seen anything like it before.

My attention snapped as I heard a loud sniffing. Followed by a growl. A massive club broke through the table, and barely past my face, before leaving a giant crater in the wooden floor. I felt my body freeze up, as I stared helplessly as the giant club was raised again. I screamed at my body to move, and as the club came down once more and I barely slipped to the side.

I leapt to my feet, pulling out my sword and readied myself towards my attacker. A blue giant with rags. It easily towered the tallest of men, and it’s red eyes gazed into mine. A troll? I had thought they were extinct.

The troll roared again as it leapt to me, attempting to grab me with it’s left hand, but I ducked under it, and lashed out with a kick into it’s stomach. The troll didn’t flinch nor move, as I was launched backwards by my own kick, crashing into the wooden wall.

“You got to be kidding me,” I muttered, as the troll swung its club madly.

I barely dodged once more, as I slipped past, grabbing the oil lamp on the remaining half of the table, before throwing it at the troll. The lamp broke against the trolls head, as the oil and flames started to slowly cascade down the troll’s head.

It screamed a feral roar, as it clutched at its head desperately. But I didn’t care. I turned and ran out the shack and into the snowstorm. I cursed under my breath as I ran through the snow, away from the goddamn troll. I couldn’t go far with this snowstorm, the best I could do was reside in another building for the time being. My thoughts were interrupted as I heard a roar of anger from behind, as I turned around seeing the slightly charred troll.

Trolls were born physically stronger than a human being, easily matching the strength of ten men. They are fast, and in the cold snow they were the fastest. A simple fact that I carelessly forgot as the club struck my head, and my world instantly went black.

* * *

 I awoke to a stinging headache and blurry vision. The cold stone floor seemed to slightly stick to my face, as I slowly sat up. Groaning, I let my body get used to the sensation, before I finally saw I was in some sort of cell. It was small, with some hay scattered now and then on the floor. A couple of rats could be heard scattering around, there was something that smelt terrible. Even uncle Darius was more hygienic than this. I looked down at my wrist and ankles, to see that both were cuffed in heavy chains. My eyes then widened in realization as I brought my hands to my side, grasping at where my sword should have been.

“Great,” I muttered aloud at the lack of my weapon.

My uncle is going to kill me for losing it again. If I don’t live through this…that brings me to my next thought, that trolls still existed. Something that my all-knowing uncle seemed to not know, that was rare and a first for me. I sighed, as I reached up to my head, gently feeling around for it. I could feel the patches of dried blood on my head, to which I hope won’t get infected. I hardly doubt trolls would disinfect a wound in the first place, much less to a prisoner.

I looked outside the cells, and squinted through the dim corridor. Most of the cells seemed empty surprisingly, though there were some that had figures covered by the shadows. I couldn’t hear the sound of any guards, so I assumed that this corridor was either much bigger than it looked, or trolls aren’t the kind to bother guarding the cells at all.

“Shit,” I muttered.

There was a shuffle of movement from the other side of one of the walls, before a somewhat pleasant voice called out.

“Yeah it ain’t the best living area, but it beats getting eaten any day.”

I didn’t say anything, as I quickly slid over to the wall.

“Are there any guards?” I blurted, though not the most intelligent of things to ask right now.

“That’s a strange question, normally you would give your name, then ask the other person in return. My name is Bohbrivisklov Voneheim. Though my friends just call me Bob.”

“Uh, right,” I answered. “I’m Marcus.”

“Last name?”

“Uh…Du Couteau.”

“That’s a rare name. Not from the Freljord?”

“No. Well, I lived here my whole life here, but my uncle and I are Demacian I think.”

“Demacian? Now that’s truly rare. Haven’t seen one of them in ages since the last war.”

I didn’t say anything. Everyone knows about the previous war, the one between the two powerhouses Demacia and Noxus. It was a bloody one that cost many lives with Demacia winning in the end, though there aren’t many records for it. It’s common not to speak of such a thing, especially in times of peace.

“Say, how did a young lad like you get caught. Surely Rakelstake is a bit far south for trolls to travel. I’m assuming you are from Rakelstake,” Bob said.

“Yeah I am, as for why I’m here well…”

I went over the details of the injured woman I saw at Rakelstake, and finally how I was caught. Bob seemed to listen to me intently, as he was silent during the whole thing the only sound he made was from a thought tapping on his knee.

“So word managed travel to Queen Ashe, thank god. It’ll be only be a matter of time before we get out of here,” Bob stated, relieved from my story.

“There were signs of a snowstorm brewing when I travel up here though. I don’t think a legion could travel up the mountain in that weather, especially with heavy armor.”

“Oh well. At least we know we are going to be rescued some time soon. My wife would be thrilled to hear the news!”

“Wife? There are others?”

There was the sign of shuffling, before a loud creak echoed through the corridor. A loud metal clang followed, before more shuffling could be heard. A middle-aged man entered the view of my cell, giving a goofy smile. I raised an eyebrow at his cheeriness.

“How did you open the cell door?”

“The trolls don’t lock them,” he answered, pushing my cell doors open. “Come on youngster, follow me.”

He turned around and started walking away, as I stared dumbly at what just happened. Coming back to my senses seconds later, I jumped to my feet, and raced after Bob as fast as I could. It was hard with these metal chains on me.

As I thought, the corridor was long, a long tunnel to be exact. It seemed to curve as well, so I couldn’t tell how long the corridor truly was.

“What the hell,” I hissed at Bob. “Why do the trolls leave the cells unlocked? What’s the point in having a cell if you don’t even use it?!”

Bob shrugged his shoulders.

“They probably know we won’t be escaping anytime soon. They at least have guards blocking the only exit out of this cavern.”

A sad smile seemed to appear on Bob’s face for a spilt second, before it disappeared almost immediately as we finally reached the end of the corridor, leading to a large open cavern. Inside, there were sounds of mining, as countless amounts of people were swinging away at chunks of hardened ice. Most were in rags, looked tired, and some were no longer moving on the ground.

“What the hell is this?” I whispered. “Is what their mining…is that…true ice?”

I looked at one of the minters trying to use a pickaxe, but to no success as barely anything was chipped off from the large shard of blackened ice.

“Well,” Bob said. “Not quite. I’ve never seen this kind of ice before, but true ice can be mined. That ice, is tougher than anything I’ve ever witnessed. My family has been mountain miners for generations, and I can tell you that what that is, is not good. God knows why the trolls want it so much.”

I looked back at the people working at the ice, and I felt empty. So trolls attacked the villagers for miners? What for?

A slap to the back caused me to come back to my senses, as Bob followed it with a pinch to my cheek.

“Get that gloomy look of your face, we ain’t dead so that’s something to be happy about,” he said. “As you said, we’ll be saved soon. Gotta focus on the positives in life.”

Bob looked around once more to see if anyone was listening in. He seemed satisfied, so he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, bringing his mouth to my ear, a foreign serious expression onf his face.

“Marcus, I advise not telling anyone that you are a mercenary and that there are soldiers coming,” he said, his tone void of all happiness it had before. “I can only think of what might happen if word goes around. I rather we keep the peace for now. Okay?”

I hesitantly nodded. Smiling, he slapped my back once more, before he strolled down the pathway towards the group of miners taking a break, a couple looked up at him.

“Your not asleep Bob?” one of them called. “You have the night shift don’t you?”

Bob shrugged.

“Couldn’t sleep. Thought I could show our new friend around instead. Marcus, meet Reighkei. My drinking buddy.”

The man that spoke earlier, Reighkei, nodded towards me.

“A merchant?” he asked me. “Not many people would travel north to the villages out here.”

“Yeah, branched off to do some…sales while my uncle…m-manned the shop back at home,” I lied as best as I could. “I didn’t expect…well, trolls.”

Some strange looks were on their faces, but it seemed to disappear as Bob slapped my back once more.

“Anyway, do you think Marcus is young enough to pass off as a non-worker?” Bob asked. “Speaking off which, how old are you Marcus?”

“I’m fourteen this year,” I replied. “Is that fine?”

“Hmmm…normally you would be mining with us, but you could pass off as someone younger with your height,” Reighkei said, thoughtfully appraising me. “Best not tell your real age kid, unless you wanna work with us all day long.”

I shook my head.

“I rather not, I’m not that strong,” I said, giving a faint smile.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Reighkei laughed, placing his hand on my head.

I hissed from the pain, as he reeled his hand back.

“Shit, are you alright?” he said, peering at the top of my head. “Oh god, that’s a nasty wound.”

Bob peered over as well, his eyes widened at the slight bleeding from my head.

“How the hell did you get that?” Bob asked. “Was it a troll?”

I bit my lip, as I watched his eyes darkened as he understood my silence.

“Rei, I’ll take him to my wife first, I’ll join you again after,” Bob said.

“Yeah, you go do that. Sorry kid. Didn’t realize you had a wound on your head.”

I raised my hands in defense.

“No, it’s alright. It’s hard to see it with my hair anyway,” I said jokingly, hoping to calm the older man down.

He seemed contempt, as he nodded, before waving goodbye. Bob wrapped his arm around my shoulder gently as he directed me through the other people. Some gave us weird looks, but otherwise no one seemed to pay attention much to me. I looked at the black ice that was being mined as we walked. It radiated with power, and it seemed eerie to me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it scared me a little.

“Halt,” a low growl called out.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as Bob stopped as well. We both turned to look at who called out to us, seeing a hulking figure looking down on us. I looked up, to see a troll, its glowing red eyes bore into mine, as I realized it had its hair singed. This was the troll I set on fire.

I gulped.

“Follow,” it said, pointing its finger at me, before pointing at Bob. “You. Not follow.”

“B-But this child is hurt, he needs to be looked af-”

“Not. Follow.”

The troll rose to its full height, glaring down at Bob, who is already taller than average I might add. He bore his fangs threateningly. Bob seemed hesitant, but reluctantly nodded, stepping away from me.

The troll hunched once more, grabbing me roughly by my chains, before tugging me along. The other people watching this dare not look at me as I was forcefully dragged through the miners, before arriving at a large tunnel on the other side of the cavern. It was pitch black, impossible for me to see anything. Note to self, trolls can see in the dark.

After stumbling through the dark tunnels for an eternity, I could see a faint light at the end of the tunnel. It flickered, so it was a flame of some sort. Finally reaching the end of the corridor, I entered what seemed to be a throne room of some sort. It was a some what large room, with stone pillars on either side with fully equipped trolls in front of each of the dozen pillars. And it lead all the way to a large throne made of bones, where a single figure sat. I could barely make out the troll as if was mostly hidden in the shadows, but it was massive, and towered over the others. Most definitely a troll king.

A sudden yell of pain roared from one of the side doors, and the troll guarding the room seem to stand up straight at the roar. Something they feared?

“Come forth,” the figure at the end of the room boomed. It was a quiet but a strong voice that echoed throughout the room.

I didn’t know how to respond, but the troll behind me didn’t seem to care as he roughly pushed me forward. Once I was right in front of the throne, he forced me to my knees.

I looked up at the troll king, his red eyes glaring down at me. He sniffed at the air, taking in my scent.

“You come from Rakelstake yes?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

“Y-Yes,” I said, trying not to let my fear get the better over me. As long as I answer the king’s questions, it should be fine. I tried to slow my breathing down, as I looked back once more into the king’s eyes.

“Do the human Queen and King know of us?” he asked.

His eyes hardened, as he leaned in closer, awaiting for my response. His mouth was relaxed, like he would bite my head off at any moment.

“Not that I know of. I-I am a merchant, who was-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” he roared, grabbing me around my neck and raising me into the air. I felt the air leave my lungs, as I desperately tried to breath.

“I-I’m…n-not-”

“I can tell when you lie child! It’s practically radiating off you!”

He took a deep breath, before letting it out again.

“I smell your cursed scent, your lying nature, and it sickens me!”

His grip tightened. I could feel my vision going hazy, as I grabbed at his hands, trying to peel it off.

 _Let me go!_ I tried to yell out but to no avail. I felt scared, I felt death approaching, and as I did I felt power. My hand seemed to glow a golden light, as an explosion erupted, and I was sent flying back, as the troll king roared in pain. I skidded along the cold stone floor, desperately gasping for air. A foot suddenly pinned my head to the ground, nearly crushing me. I cried out in pain, as tears threatened to come out.

“A mage,” the troll king said. “Not a merchant.”

My eyes widened, as I realized what that was. Magic…but I have never used magic before.

“W-Wait,” I forced through my teeth. “I swear, I am no mage.”

“Lies!”

“I have never used magic in my life! I swear I am telling the truth! I didn’t even know I could use magic! Please believe me!”

“Take him to a deeper cell, and lock him up tight this time,” the king said. “I don’t want him giving hope to the others.”

I felt helpless as I was dragged on the ground, as I screamed for them to let me go.

* * *

 

 It was hours later, and after a beating that I came too, this time my body refused to respond to me. The pain ached, and the wounds hurt all over my body.

“S-Shit,” I cursed.

Why did I have to feel sorry for that woman? Why didn’t I wait for my uncle? Why did I come?

Tears started to stream down my face, as I let out a sob. Normally I wouldn’t dare, as uncle Darius would frown upon it, but right now I wasn’t in the mood for that. I let out the tears, but a gentle dab on my cheeks, tried to stop the flow of tears.

“Ssshh,” the soothing voice said. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

I saw a woman enter my vision. Beautiful long red hair, and a gentle smile. A damp towel was pressed onto my wound on the head, as I hissed in pain. It was dark, but I assumed the other person seemed to back off slightly from my wince.

“Sorry,” the voice said. “It must be very painful.”

“I-It’s nothing.”

I braced myself this time, as the wet towel cleaned my wounds.

“I hear that you are Marcus,” the woman said. “My husband talked about you. Wanted me to make sure you were fine. I’m Cynthia.”

“Is your husband…B-Bob?”

There was a brief silence, before Cynthia burst into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah his friends call him that, despite how ridiculous it sounds. But you can’t really change his mind once it’s set…”

Another brief silence, as Cynthia continued to attend to my wounds.

“How did you get in here?” I asked. “The troll king said to lock me up.”

“Yeah, trolls aren’t the smartest. A simple promise of good food was enough to change the mind of the guard that brought you down here.”

I scoffed, and winced again as the wet towel came down once more.

“So you and your uncle are mercenaries?” Cynthia brought up. “At such a young age too.”

“Yeah,” I answered. “It’s the only thing I know how to do. Uncle Darius wouldn’t have me do anything else but fight.”

“Darius? Strange name.”

“It’s Demacian.”

“Sounds Noxian to me.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s Demacian. The Noxian Empire was destroyed years ago, most of its citizens slaughtered. So I don’t think there are that many people around who are Noxian.”

Cynthia smiled playfully.

“I am.”

“…Seriously?”

“Yup. Well, half Ionian as well. My mother was Noxian, and was deemed a traitor though. She died when I was young.”

I grew silent upon hearing that. A mother. I stared at the stone ceiling, a sudden interest in it.

“Is something wrong Marcus?” Cynthia asked.

“No. It’s just. Well…I don’t know anything about my mother. Or my father for that matter.”  
“Really?”

“Yup. My uncle never speaks about them. He has this pained look whenever my parents are brought up, but I never have the courage to ask him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’ll get mad or throw a tantrum or something.”

Cynthia giggled, rinsing the towel of to the side. She pulled out, what seemed to be some rags, as she gently started to wrap it around my wounds. I watched her fingers work carefully, making sure to not touch my wounds.

“I think,” she said suddenly. “That you should ask your uncle about your parents. If you truly want to know.”

“But if he get’s mad?”

“Then let him. Take it from someone who swore to get revenge for my mother. All that anger, the past, it’s not good for you. Once the dust settles, it’s best to let out all resentment to truly move on in life.”

I didn’t say anything. How could I? I tried to sit up, but Cynthia gently placed her hand on my shoulder.

“Rest. I’ll bring you food and water during meal times, and so just focus on resting up. Maybe ponder a bit about what we discussed today as well.”

She smiled, and stood up. She grabbed the lamp that had lit the cell up, and she left the cell. The sound of her footsteps echoed through the corridor, and I was left in silence. And in the dark.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

It's been about three days I think. It's hard to tell as I spent most of the time just lying on my back in a cold dark cell, surrounded by stone for my amusement. Here I lay pondering…no wondering would be a better word, on whether we will be saved soon or not.

True to her promise, Cynthia would come at meal times, sneaking food for my sake. There we would talk, as she explained if anything changed, while I learnt about her life style before she was captured.

She was a seamstress for her village, while her husband Bob was a miner. They have been married for fifteen years, and boy did she have a lot of stories to tell. She would talk about the children playing pranks on a daily basis, or the songs that had been sung. She would even talk about Bob's failed attempts to knit a scarf for her, a red tattered one that was larger on one end. She still cherished it with all her heart.

In return, I would tell her stories of my uncle and I.

Being the unstoppable force of brawn and no brain that he was. The amounts of bars he was kicked out of for starting a fight was nearly uncountable. Yeah, I didn't have the best stories, they were mostly the same…except for one.

"There was a time when my uncle wanted to replace his old vest that got torn during a midnight raid," I told Cynthia. "I was nine at the time, and I didn't know his size. So in order to surprise him, I went to buy one while he was still asleep, and I accidentally bought one way to small for him. That was one of the most undignified moments that I ever saw him, as I tried to give it to him in the mercenary guild as well."

"And he didn't thank you?"

"It was an expensive vest that I spent the majority of our money on, so he wasn't too please. He ended up repairing his old one himself, as he didn't actually want to depart from it. I think in the end, he threw away the one I bought him as he couldn't use it."

Cynthia couldn't contain her laughter from the story.

I stayed silent as I listened to her soothing laughter, a smile on my face. I couldn't help but feel at peace with someone listening to me.

"Hey, Cynthia, you've been married for fifteen years right?" I asked.

"Yes that's right."

"Have you ever thought about having children?"

Cynthia smile faltered slightly. Her eyes seemed to drop away from mine.

"No. My husband and I are busy all the time. We have thought about it, but it would just get in the way of work."

"I see…sorry for bringing that up."

Cynthia reeled back defensively, raising her hands up.

"It's fine don't worry about it. All the children of the village are like our own anyway."

I smiled, as she ruffled my head, being wary of my wound. She returned the smile, and stood back up.

"I'll be back tomorrow, don't do anything strenuous, and don't be seen by the trolls outside this cell."

"I get it. You said this multiple times already," I muttered.

"It's just a reminder. Have a good rest Marcus."

She left the cell, closing the gates as softly as she could, before disappearing with the lamp she carried. Once my cell was fully dark once more, I lay back down on the bits of hay and closed my eyes.

As I tried to go to sleep, the heavy steps of trolls dragged something along the floor. There were growls of anger, as I opened my eyes once more.

I peered outside the cell, so see a rough silhouette of a couple of trolls dragging a body along the floor. The opening of another cell could be heard, before they threw the body in, before closing the door and locking it. There were a couple of snorts, before the unconscious looking figure seemed to twitch. The two trolls flinched, and both took a step back before stopping, as the unconscious figure didn't move anymore. Satisfied, the two trolls left, as I lay my head back down on the floor, closing my eyes and pretending to sleep once more.

Once the footsteps seemed to disappear, I made my move. I quietly rose to my feet, making sure that there weren't any footsteps coming from above. I made my way through the darkness, and opened my cell door, slipping out. I peered both ways, before sneaking towards the opposite cell doors where the unconscious figure lay. It was a troll, though it looked extremely weak. Its white hair was tattered, its scars were numerous, and what appeared to be open wounds all over its body. Why would they do this to their own kind?

I stepped closer, and placed my hand on the bars, just as the troll leapt from its spot towards me. I yelped, as I fell back, and as the hands reached out for me.

"Come here," he weakly said. "Let me eat you. Just a tiny bite will do."

I slid backwards further away from the reaching hands. It bore its fangs at me, as he let his frail arm stick out from the gate.

"So close…just a little, but a taste…a simple taste! Oh, what could it be? Does it have power? Does it have intelligence? Let me find out, let me find out!"

It rammed again into the metal gates once more, proceeding to repeat the process. It's eyes, were filled with hunger, but instead of the regular red, it was a pale blue.

"Shut up," I said.

It didn't seem to notice as it continued to reach out for me.

"I said shut up!" I shouted. "Or do you want me to get the guards?!"

That seemed to do something, as the frail troll backed off slightly. His eyes were still maniacal, as he slowly sat back, his eyes never leaving me.

"Good," I said. "Firstly, assuming your bloody banging didn't alert the guards as it is, I want you to know, you try and eat me again and I won't hesitate to call them down, are we clear."

I watched as he eyed me, and too be honest I felt a little nervous. His eyes were no doubt intelligent, as it seemed to be thinking. Did he see through my bluff? He nodded slowly, as drool came from his mouth.

"Secondly, why are you like this? Why are the other trolls doing this to you?"

He stopped to ponder for a bit. He tapped his chin, before smiling.

"Endless pain. Endless torment…hmmm. Why," the troll started to mumble. "Was it because I was king? No no no, they wouldn't betray the king…Uh yes, a stranger. A simple stranger. I said no…he smelled of…power, lots of power, powerful, power hungry, power power power POWER POWER!"

He grabbed at his head, he yelled at the top of his voice as he continued to clutch at his head.

Shit, he was going to alert the guards at this rate. What should I do? I bit my lip as I looked nervously at the stairs going upwards, before looking back at the troll in the cell.

"Quiet," I hissed.

But he didn't shut up this time, and as I expected I could hear the steps of trolls coming down the stairs once more. I backed off into my cell once more, closing the gates shut.

"Here they come," the troll said, smiling gleefully. He looked back at me once more, and tiled his head to the side.

"I won't eat you," he said.

What? That was a sudden change of heart…then I watched him point his finger to the sound of footsteps.

"Give me, them."

My eyes widened in realization. He's going to kill some of the other trolls for me. Was this a good situation? If I go with this, he could help me kill the other trolls, as he is one himself, but he was so frail looking. The two trolls from before were scared of him, that's for sure, but could he even fight them?

I looked at the direction the footsteps were coming from, then back at the hungered stare of the troll. Well, lowering some of their numbers wouldn't hurt so much, it would make the job of the soldiers easier…assuming that they were coming soon. I sighed, before I nodded, and backed into my cell, not bothering to close the gate. Good timing too, as it wasn't long before the troll guards came around to the cell, and seemed to shout some angry words in a language I didn't know. In its hand was a wooden club that it used to smash against the cell in a means of intimidation. The injured troll bared it fangs in response, and the two guards stepped back, and I made my move.

I silently rushed out and leapt into a tackle. Using my whole weight, I caused him to stumble forward, as he crashed against the cell. Seeing me, the other troll guard raised his own club and was about to bring it down on me, but a hand shot out from the cell and caught it. I turned to look at the troll in the cell, as his once frail body seemed to slowly fill. His weak blue glowing eyes, hardened, as the grip against the troll I tackled tightened. The troll screamed as blue energy seeped from it's eyes, and mouth, entering through the hands of the one in the cell.

It smirked, as the white hair slowly darkened, before turning into a shade of blood red. His other hand, closed around the wooden cub, crushing it in his hands, before he let go of the troll I tackled.

Both the troll guard and I seemed to realize the danger, as we both backed off, while the troll in the cell rose to his full height.

With a single blow, his arm crushed through the metal bars like they were twigs, grabbing the other troll around the head, as the blue energy seeped out once more. It screamed as it desperately struck at the now larger troll to no avail.

"I remember each and every one of your lashings. The pain, and the anger…I remember it all traitor."

Once he was done, he dropped the lifeless body with the other like a rag doll before looking at me. I gulped. He was easily as tall as the troll king now, his eyes still had the same insanity as before, but this time I was intimidated by the renewed strength in his eyes.

"I thank you," he said. "For your services. Too long have I starved, and wasn't in the right state of mind."

"And you're fine now?"

He grinned at me in, his eyes not changing at all. Yeah, no he was still definitely insane. He seemed to realize that I realize this, as he sent a reassuring slap to the back. That hurt a lot!

"Don't look so scared human," he said, toothily grinning. "I was just hungry then. I mean I still am, but your skin and bones won't do me well…I need something that isn't smelly and not a twig."

I didn't know whether to be thankful or insulted, as I watched him bend down and pick up the large wooden club from the bodies of the troll guard. He brought it to his nose and sniffed at it, bit it a little, before sighing. I was about to ask what was wrong, but he just yelled, and smashed the only weapon we had on the stone floor.

"It's not the same!" he yelled.

"What is?"

"This weapon!"

"What's it not the same as?"

"My weapon!"

I just stared blankly at the enraged troll, as he made his way towards the stairs.

"The traitor that dares call himself king…he must have it in his possession," he growled. "I'll kill him."

I didn't say anything as I slowly followed him up the flight of stairs. We walked through multiple stone corridors of cells full of miners, giving us strange looks, but the troll ignored them, and not bothering to hide himself at all, stomped his way through each and every corridor. You would think that he would at least try to be discreet.

"Do you have to make such a racket? You're going to alert the other guards," I said.

"Sneaking is only for those that don't want to be known."

"But you want to kill the king right? This is not a good way. We can disguise you a little, and pretend you are taking me to see the king, where you can confront him."

"I am the true king. And I, have no need to take my throne from anywhere but the front."

As we reached the area that was about to lead into the cavern, the troll stopped, and roared at the top of his voice, as I clamped my hands over my ears.

"I, KING TRUNDLE HAVE ESCAPED. FACE ME YOU STUPID HEATHENS!"

Watching him yell, there were a couple of roars of anger, as Trundle stepped back into the corridor, gently pushing me to a wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed.

He placed a finger on his lips, as he let in a deep breath. Hearing the trolls coming towards him, he raised his arms in perfect timing a let loose a devastating punch into the oncoming troll, easily sending him flying. Trundle didn't stop there, as he roared and leapt into the air, grabbing two trolls with him, as he came crashing down on the black ice, crushing their heads against it. I watched in awe, as the other trolls started running at him, and it was strange seeing the group of trolls trying to overpower the stronger troll. It was savage, as Trundle kicked another, seeing him flying, before grabbing another a taking a huge bite out of it's arm.

The miners that were there seemed to get the memo as they ran, trying not to be in the fight of flying bodies, and a rampaging troll king.

"Marcus, what the hell is going on?"

I turned to see Bob running up to me, sweat pouring down his forehead.

"It's uh, an uprising I think," I replied. "He's going for the troll king, so it's a good opportunity to get the others and lead them out of the cavern."

"What about you?"

"I'll open the gates."

Without hearing his response, I charged through the other minders, grabbing a pickaxe on the way. I rushed forward to aid Trundle, and upon seeing one of the trolls try and leap on him, I threw the pickaxe, and sent it flying into it's head, causing him to fall to the ground.

If Trundle realized that I threw that, he didn't seem to show it as he continued his fight, grabbing their heads, and slowly absorbing the blue energy. His wounds that he was receiving in the fight were actually slowly healing.

Running past him, I pushed my way towards the large stone doors, eyeing up the door. The guards were fighting Trundle, so it gives me plenty of time to open the doors. I immediately ran to what seemed like a wooden wheel on one of the sides of the gate, and I pulled at it. It didn't budge. I pulled at it with all my strength, as it gave way slightly. My muscles screamed at me, as I put my whole weight into it, as it slowly started to move. The sound of the large stone doors started to open, as a cold air rushed into the cavern. I could feel the chilly air against my skin, but I forced myself to continue.

"Someone help me with the doors!" I yelled.

The cold was too much for me, as it seemed to freeze my skin. Some of the miners must have heard me, as they came to my side, and as a group we started to heave at the large wooden wheel. The doors started opening once more, as more of the cold air was coming in. After what seemed like hours, the wheel refused to continue and the doors were open.

"Everybody out!" one of the miners shouted.

The swarms of people were streaming out from the caverns and into the snow. Most of them seemed fine with the cold, which irked me a little. Bloody Freljordian genetics.

I turned around, to see Trundle still fighting, as I rushed over to assist him if need be. How I could, I have no idea. But as soon as I was about to reach his side, I heard a roar coming from my left, as I turned, and ducked just in time as a wooden club smashed against the black ice above my head. A déjàvu moment if you will. And of course, wouldn't you know it, it was slightly singed hair troll himself.

"Why is it always you," I muttered, as it swung his club again.

I ducked to the side, spinning around him, as I ran. I knew he would catch me in terms of speed, but this time I weaved through the countless black ice stalagmites. I could hear him trying to give chase, but even though he was fast, he wasn't as deleterious and small as me, even while lugging around chains. I could hear him having trouble getting to me, as I snuck a glance at Trundle finishing off the last of the trolls, before looking at me. He smiled, as I let out a sigh of relief, before he game me a thumbs up pose.

"You got this kid! Knock him out for me while I reclaim my throne! I can't be a king with no trolls!" he yelled, before running towards the corridor leading to the throne room.

Are you, kidding me?! I stopped running, and turned around just in time to see that singed hair caught up to me, bringing down his club once more. How the hell, am I suppose to kill him, much less knock him out? I dashed to the side, dodging the club once more. But this time, almost as quickly, it didn't stop and rushed back at me, sending me flying through the air. I landed heavily, as I forced myself to sit up. I coughed a little, as I felt a bit of blood come out, as my left eye was becoming hard to see with. My head started to sting, and I knew that my wound had reopened.

"Shit," I muttered, as I embraced my fate, watching the troll rush towards me.

"Marcus!"

A voice yelled out, as the familiar figure of Bob rushed out, bringing down a pickaxe that he had grabbed. It buried into the troll's arm, causing him to roar in pain, as he turned hi attention to Bob.

"Run, I'll distract him," Bob continued, before being battered away by the trolls arm, knocking him unconscious. The singed haired troll, pulled out the pickaxe, and made his way towards the unconscious body of Bob.

"No!"

Cynthia rushed out, and placed arms around the Troll's waist, trying to move him, but he refused to budge, before he simply smacked her aside. I saw red. Rising slowly to my feet, I grabbed the first thing I could see. A shard of black ice.

"Oi shithead!" I yelled, grabbing his attention.

The troll turned as I pegged the shard at his head. Firstly, I didn't expect the shard to penetrate its head. And secondly, my hand started to hurt, as I fell to my knees, grasping at it.

Hearing me scream, Cynthia appeared at my side, grabbing my hand to look at.

"Let me see," she said, peering at it.

My veins were showing around my hand, as it darkened and made itself pronounced. From behind her, I watched as Bob, now conscious, stumbled his way towards us, peering over his wife's shoulder.

"Black ice," he said, his tone very serious. "So it was Dark Ice after all."

I turned to look up at him.

"Dark Ice?" I asked.

"I didn't know if it was or not as it only effects those that had magic blood running through them," Bob continued. "It corrupts the users magic, or so I heard. The Ice Witch Lissandra was such a corrupted being."

The three of us watched as my hand started returning to normal, as the pain resided.

"Will I be alright?" I asked.

"I think so," Bob said, peering at my hand closely. "It wasn't a big piece, so don't cast any magic just to be safe."

"I don't even know any spells."

"Good."

He said, slapping my back, causing me to grunt in pain.

"What was that for?" I hissed, as Cynthia embraced me in a hug. I glared at Bob, who smirked at me in response.

"That…was for recklessly getting into a fight. You could have left the trolls to fight their own battles."

"It was after me."

"No, it only noticed you after you went to help your friend."

"Well I couldn't just leave him!"

"Both of you shut up!" Cynthia yelled, her voices broken into sobs.

She pulled back a little, and I could see the tears strolling down her cheek. Both Bob and I didn't know what to say, so we just let her sob it out.

"You're both idiots," she said. "Stupid idiots."

"Sorry."

"Don't bother Marcus. Once she's like this, she won't stop," Bob stated, smirking, as Cynthia turned to him and started smacking his chest, before embracing him into a hug as well.

"Stupid, stupid, idiotic, morons."

I couldn't hide a small giggle from my mouth, before I burst into a fit of laughter. Bob couldn't hide it either, as he too started to laugh. Seeing this, Cynthia stepped back, her eyes red and puffy, as she placed her hands on her hips.

"And what can I ask is so funny?" she asked.

We didn't answer as we just continued to laugh. It honestly didn't know how to respond to Cynthia. This was such a foreign thing to me, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Nothing, it's just a funny feeling," Bob said, as he took a look around the room. "We can laugh all we want after. We should probably join the other villagers."

I nodded, but remembered something.

"You guys go first, I need to find my sword," I said.

The two looked at me as I said that.

"Marcus we should really go, a sword is not worth you staying here," Bob said.

"It's my father's. My uncle said it was the blade he used as a child."

There was a brief silence as both of their eyes widened in realization. Bob's eyes softened, as he placed his hand gently on my shoulder.

"Fine," he said. "But once you retrieve it, you get out as soon as possible, okay?"

I nodded, as I hugged them both.

"Thanks," I said. "I won't be long."

After they returned my embrace, I thanked them once more, before running towards the throne room. There were no other places in the cavern, or corridors that would have my sword so that would be the only place.

I ran through the dark corridor, the pathway dimly visible to me. As I reached the end of the throne room, I could see the destruction. Most of the stone pillars were a mess, with the troll guards dead on the ground. A giant gaping hole leading outside to the cold air was evident on the left side of the room. The king or Trundle, were nowhere to be seen. I hurried through the room, and towards the door by the throne, opening it. I remember my uncle stating that throne rooms have the treasury nearby, as it was easier to hire guards for a king and the treasury if they were in the same room.

Sure enough, I opened it to a room full of weapons and gold. Where was my sword? I searched through the room, pushing aside an old trophy with the words 'Lil Slugger' embedded on it. That was weird. After a minute or two searching, I finally found the small blade in a nest of daggers. Sighing, I pulled it out from scabbard, inspecting the blade to see it was perfectly fine. Thank god. I sheathed it again, and strapped it to my side before leaving the treasury. I should hurry and catch up with Bob and Cynthia.

As I ran through the throne room, a sudden scream echoed. The same one as before that had scared the trolls.

I turned to stare at the wooden doors where the scream came from, and my curiosity got the better of me. I made my way over to the doors, and heaved it open. It creaked open, as it revealed a sight of a naked woman in chains. Her skin was blue, as her abnormally long white hair was messy and covered the majority of her. The chains were attached to a series of stone pillars, with green runes on them. And each time they glowed, a black mist slowly ripped itself from the woman and into the stones. Each time it did, the woman seemed to be in pain.

Snapping out of my stupor, I ran forward and fell to my knees, withdrawing my sword and stabbing it into the cuffs.

"Hold on, I'll get you out," I said reassuringly.

The woman seemed to understand, as she relaxed to my hand. I tried to force my sword into the chains, as I tried to pry it open. It wouldn't budge.

"D-Disrupt…p-pillar."

The woman forced out of her throat. It was weak and frail, but I heard it perfectly. I nodded, dropping my sword as I rushed to the first pillar, only realizing now that it was hovering by an invisible force. I pushed at it, leaning into it, but it refused to budge. It was useless.

"I'll be right back."

I ran out of the room, and quickly grabbed the closest club, before running back in. Going to the pillar once more, I forced it in between the gaps, before applying my weight into the club. It groaned as I applied more force into the leaver, until there was a crack of green energy, before it dislodged, and fell forward. It disrupted the rest of the pillars, as the runes disappeared almost immediately.

As it did, the woman gasped for air, as she brought her hands to her throat.

I rushed to her side.

"Are you alright?"

She smacked my offered hand aside weakly.

"S-Stand…back," she forced out.

I took a few steps back, as she slowly rose to her feet, her knees trembling. I move to help her, but with a simple yell, an explosion erupted, as the chains were ripped apart. I was knocked onto the floor by the yell, my sword clanged as it landed beside me. I stared at the woman as ice started to form around her. It was dark, as it cloaked her until it formed a dress. Her long free flowing hair dragged across the floor, as she took a step forward. Then another. Once she took the next step, her legs gave way, as she fell. I rushed forward, and caught her.

"Woah, careful," I said, supporting her weight. "Take it easy."

She didn't say anything, as I shifted her until she wasn't pressing on my wound. Moving to my sword, I quickly grabbed it, and sheathed it with one hand, before directing the woman out of the room.

Her skin was cold, almost like ice. Most Freljordian's were, but her one was the coldest I have ever touched. I gritted my teeth as I led her through the throne room and caverns, and she didn't say a single word. All I could hear was the breathing on my neck. As we exited the door, I didn't recognize where we were. A stone bridge lead to another large stone door on the other side. It was left open, so the others must have taken it already. I half carried, half supported the woman across the bridge, but once we were half way there was a sudden roar from above us.

I turned around, and looked up to see two figures falling from the mountaintops. It was hard to see the two figures, as they crashed heavily onto the bridge, shaking the entire structure.

A cloud of dust erupted into the air from the landing. As it cleared, the figure of the troll king was stepping on the head of Trundle, who looked to be severely injured. Trundle roared, as he tried to push the king off, but in his hand, a blue club landed heavily on Trundle's head, silencing him.

The king was smiling, his red eyes glowing. But for some reason, he was somehow different. Instead of the regal aura he had before, this one felt more…joking and fun.

"Pathetic," he spat out a tooth while saying that. "To think you were so weak after all."

He slid off the unconscious figure of Trundle as he seemed to realize that both the woman and I were here.

"It's you again," he said casually, bringing the club made of ice to rest on his shoulder. "And you found the witch as well. How does freedom feel like Lissandra? Beautiful ain't it? Pleasant? Trust me I know the feeling."

"C-Curse…you," she forced out. "I'll…I'll kill-"

"Me? My my, you never learn your lesson do you?"

His red eyes bore into ours, almost hypnotic in a way. Lissandra stirred, as she tried to stand on her own.

"I-Impossible," Lissandra stated. "You're-"

"Oh, now you recognize me. Not the puppet that I put you away with…which one was it again? It was one of your colleagues right? Volibear I think it was. And people called him a God. He didn't even last three seconds against me."

Lissandra shivered, as she took a step back.

"Look on the bright side Lissie, I actually need you to retain your mind," the troll king said. "So let's put you back in your cage."

I drew my sword, and held it in front of me. I stared at the king, pointing my sword at him. I let in a deep breath, and released it, trying to stop my racing heart. Whatever this was, it was something huge. I know the legend of the Ice Witch. I heard of her power, her deeds, and if they were true…I was in a terrible situation.

The king looked at the blade in my hand, and laughed.

"You're surrounded you know," he taunted.

…What? I didn't take my eyes off him, but I didn't see anything out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh right, you can't see them," the king continued. "Let me help."

The air seemed to waver, as beings one by one made themselves known. They were taller than the troll king himself, with thick white fur like a yeti. Unlike the yeti's they had no face, but two large horns growing out of their heads. And there were five of them.

"The Watchers," Lissandra gasped. "How?"

"They were originally voidborn, it wasn't that hard," the king said. "They were all just begging to be controlled. Tell me Lissandra, does a couple centuries make you feel immortal? How about powerful?"

The question lingered, as Lissandra kept silent. She was visibly shaken by this person, as she clutched my arm in fear.

"Try a few hundred millennia then come back and we can fight…maybe then you might be able to tickle me."

A whistling sound suddenly filled the air. The troll king seemed confused as he looked around.

"Now where is that coming from?" he muttered innocently. "Troll's have terrible eyesight after all."

Suddenly an arrow found itself popping out of the neck of the troll king. The blow should have killed him, as it was literally right through it's neck. But the king seemed to be indifferent. After a couple of seconds, ice started to sprout and grow around the troll.

"Ah, I speak to much. That's a problem," he said. "Oh well…Run Lissie while you still can. I'll give you a head start if you can get out of here."

Soon the ice buried the troll king, a goofy smile on his face. The red glowing of the eyes faded. The watchers all turned at the same time to face the direction of the arrow, only to see a hooded figure standing proudly with a bow and arrow made of ice.

"Good thing I came as soon as I could," the figure said, before nocking another arrow.

She fired it, as it embedded itself into one of the watchers, but the ice didn't seem to faze it as it grabbed at it with it's other arm and swept it off like it was merely an inconvenience.

"This looks troublesome," another voice called out, as a man walked out from the doorway, his long black hair flowing freely from the cold wind. He was shirtless, but didn't seem to care, as a giant black sword was dragged through the snow. "How did you know they were still in here Anivia? Of all the places it was the Abyss."

A cry sounded from above, as a large bird of ice landed on the snow-covered bridge.

" _I know all that happens in the Freljord,"_  the bird said. " _It is my very existence."_

The red eyes of Anivia stared into mine, before looking at Lissandra cowering, then at Trundles unconscious body.

" _It seems even his power has started to invade us."_

"I don't give a damn if that bastard was here or not," a familiar voice called out this time.

I gulped because I knew this voice from anywhere. I lived with it all my life. I watched as my uncle came out from behind the half naked man, his axe already drawn and in his left hand.

"Kid," he called out. "When we get back home, we're gonna have a  _long_ talk about why you don't walk away on your own."

* * *

**A/N: Okay not going to lie. I legit created this chapter, originally based on that one line that Darius says. Don't ask how, but somehow I just did. So, normally I don't update this quick, but hey, I had time and I was bored. Gotta do something right? XD**


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